Real Life War
by sonofwolf
Summary: One is an asshole, the other is an emotionless bastard. Toss in a war and see what you get. No fluff, nothing cute. Warnings are for conformists.
1. Chapter 1

It was quite simple. They say to keep a watch out for the silent ones, and he supposed, upon hindsight, that he was silent. Oh, he said things. He did things. But he never said _anything_. In hindsight, he was an observer. Observers do just that…observe, and learn, and continue learning, hiding their finds behind a silent exterior, with some even becoming so greatly defensive of their finds to only provide better ramparts and bastions to that silent observance.

And to anyone, Prowl would be this mech. But it wasn't him. To all, he was a silent observer. But the difference between himself and an observer was that it was more of Prowl's programming to observe. Logic provided a backbone for that behavior, and it did not provide him with anything that he did not already know. It didn't form opinions. It did not stir emotions. His observances created decisions based on his own logical rules.

Therefore he could be painfully oblivious.

Just as he was when he walked into his office, a datapad in hand, and let the door slide shut. It wasn't until he rounded his desk, came to the chair, and saw the yellow in the corner of his vision that he realized he was not alone.

Prowl lowered the datapad, his optics meeting that of his intruder. He had to admit, he was caught a bit off guard, and therefore hadn't had a chance to consider what he'd say. "Sunstreaker…what are you doing in my chair?"

Sunstreaker said nothing, his face about as blank as Prowl's. With one fluid movement, he stood, reminding Prowl at just how tall the twins were, standing taller than himself and just shy of being as tall as Prime. But if Sunstreaker was trying to be intimidating, he wasn't having that effect. Sunstreaker eyed him for several more seconds before speaking. "I came to see if you were okay."

"What?"

"Okay. Are you okay?"

Prowl had to admit, he was confused. "I am perfectly fine, Sunstreaker."

He found a cube being forced into his hand, and the datapad pulled away from the other. "Sideswipe kept a tally. You haven't recharged in three orn. You haven't refueled for nearly a whole orn. Sideswipe wanted to make sure you weren't turning out to be like Red Alert."

"Overly dedicated to one's work?"

"Crazy."

Prowl considered this. He looked down at the cube in his hand, then up at Sunstreaker. "Sideswipe wanted to know, or you?"

The corner of Sunstreaker's mouth twitched, as if he wanted to smile. The datapad was put on the desk, and Sunstreaker moved past Prowl to the door. "Just don't let it happen again."

Prowl sat down, his optics still on the door. He drank the cube and left the office, leaving the datapad to shut off automatically.


	2. Chapter 2

It was a grisly yet morbidly fascinating visage.

Not the battle. The battle itself was like every other, it seemed. Prowl was hunkered behind rocks, Bumblebee at his side and soldiers rattling off positions and statuses on his line. It was a mess of a battle. Optimus and Megatron had met to negotiate the release of some human something or other. Prowl didn't particularly care what it was, even more so now that someone had opened fire.

Optimus's cease fire was unheard and Megatron, if he had said anything, was similarly unheard. Both retreated to their respective lines. It would have to wait until later to find out who opened fire.

However, the Seekers had been grounded, and thus the battle was sufficiently even. Optimus was suddenly saying something about retrieving the human thing, or rather, the _human_ that the Decepticons were holding. That meant a tedious operation, as humans were fragile, and the Decepticons were not.

Bumblebee looked up at Prowl, waiting. Prowl said nothing but lowered his head more when a stray shot skiffed off the top of the rock they were using for cover.

"If I wait any longer, Prowl, there might not be a human _left._"

Prowl gave a nod, opening his mouth to speak when a horrible _yell_ sounded from the field. They both risked a glance over the rock in time to see Astrotrain tackle a yellow something.

They both watched as Astrotrain put his foot into the back of said yellow something and began prying his victim's arm backwards. The arm was already damaged, however the sight of a bot's cables and lines snapping and erupting, then constricting and collapsing was always something to behold.

"Go. Now."

Bumblebee sprinted as Astrotrain was tackled by a red something, the diversion enough to get him halfway across the field before laser fire started up again, at which point Prowl tore his optics from the discarded yellow limb laying in rock and dirt to provide cannon fire cover for the minibot.

………………………….

Ratchet looked up from his work on the yellow limb as Prowl entered the medical area. The tactician looked towards the only wounded still left.

Sunstreaker lay on a berth, armless and awake, albeit listless.

"He probably didn't need it, but I pumped him full of painkillers just to get him to shut the frag up," Ratchet explained without being asked. "The arm is still good, just needs some minor yet tedious repairs before I can attach it again."

"The others?"

"Bee's good, just a few superficial blaster shots. There were some cracks in the dermal plating but that can heal on its own. Sideswipe had a dislocated jaw that I had to unfortunately fix, and everyone else was pretty good about staying out of harm's way for the most part," Ratchet pulled something from the arm and examined it before chucking it away. Prowl watched as a rock clanged into Ratchet's scrap bin. "You find out who shot first?"

"It wasn't anyone on our side, or so everyone says. However, I am going to be thoroughly investigating the matter."

"It could've been just a mistake."

"Most mistakes are not mistakes, just deliberate misinterpretations of the truth."

Ratchet looked up with a grin. "Hence the word, _mistake_."

"Either way, your duty was up four breems ago. Optimus has requested that you retire for the night."

Ratchet gave him an incredulous look. "I'm not done."

"I am only telling you so that I do not have to have Optimus come down himself. Apparently overworking is suddenly a problem here, and I as well as others are being scrutinized for it."

"Whatever," Ratchet stood from his work and eyed Sunstreaker. "When Sunshine here becomes aware without an arm, _you_ get to deal with the curse-fest, then."

Prowl frowned. "I had not meant that I would stay in your stead."

"Well, someone's gotta keep watch," Ratchet moved to the door. "I _could_ use a recharge."

"Ratchet…"

"Maybe next time I put in a transfer for an assistant, you won't be so quick to say no?" Ratchet smirked before leaving, waving a goodnight.

Prowl folded his arms and looked over at Sunstreaker, who was staring at him with languid optics.

"What?"

Prowl frowned and found a place to sit, the berth next to Sunstreaker's. He looked at the injured mech; he was completely out of it, although rather awake. Prowl considered his options of what to say, and decided that asking how Sunstreaker felt would not be the best of options, since he could deduce the answer himself. Resigning himself, he said, "Would you like some company?"

Sunstreaker rolled his head away so that he stared at the orange ceiling. "Whatever."

Prowl let his frown fade and pulled out a datapad. He began working, allowing the silence to give him time to get his work done. Sunstreaker once again turned his optics to Prowl, but otherwise did nothing else, so Prowl said nothing about it.

After a long while, Sunstreaker spoke. "What…don't you have…"

"Somewhere to be?"

"Yeah."

"I could be recharging, since my shift is over, but Ratchet needs rest, so I suppose I could take over in making sure the medical bay is secure for the night."

"…let him finish…first…"

"Well, yes, but then he'd be less cognizant when attaching your arm, and I am sure you'd rather he was fully attentive when doing so." Prowl looked up from his datapad. Sunstreaker was staring off at nothing. "Besides, I did come in here to make sure you were okay."

"What?"

"Okay, as you said before."

"Stop…talking…" The yellow warrior's face scrunched up a bit before he shifted slightly and allowed his optics to power down, or perhaps simply succumbed to the combination of taxed systems and pain medication.

Prowl turned back to his datapad and continued working.


	3. Chapter 3

"C'mon now!" Jazz frowned as he poked his head out of the common room. "Prowl!"

Prowl turned and lowered his datapad. "I am sorry, Jazz, but I cannot attend."

"It's a slaggin' victory party, man," Jazz groused. "If it wasn't for you, there wouldn't be a party."

Prowl considered this. "I don't mean to be rude by turning down the invitation, but this was but one battle…"

"Ah, okay, I get it," Jazz frowned, dismissing what Prowl had to say. "I'll tell them you caught a virus or somethin'."

Prowl watched as Jazz disappeared back into the lighted square of the common room doorway. He could hear laughter and chatter from within. With a flicker of his optics, he turned away from the door, then stepped aside as Sideswipe nearly mowed him down in his attempt to get to the common room.

Sideswipe grinned at him before disappearing inside. He could hear mechs greeting the frontliner.

Once again Prowl turned away, and almost cycled air in defeat when Sunstreaker was next to come up the hallway. The yellow twin, however, did not seem as elated as Sideswipe had been. He favored his newly attached arm, absently rubbing his wrist, and seemed lost in his own thoughts until his optics turned up and met Prowl's.

Sunstreaker halted in his steps across from him in the hall. "You aren't going to go to your own party?"

Prowl's mouth turned down in annoyance. "No, Sunstreaker, I am not going to the party, despite who or what it may be for."

Sunstreaker looked at the common room, then at Prowl. "I hate parties."

"Then why are you going?"

The yellow twin turned his optics to the common room, frowned, and then turned away. "I'm not." He began walking down the hall.

Prowl looked at his datapad. "Sunstreaker, if you would retrieve some cubes, then you could likewise seek refuge in my office. Most know better than to try and interrupt me during a party, while I am assuming your brother would come looking for you."

Sunstreaker eyed him. "What's the catch?"

"There is no catch. Either way, it's up to you." Prowl gave a nod of goodbye before heading to his office. Once there he sat and began working on scheduling, supply run approvals, reports…he sat those aside as he stared at his unfinished report of the battle, still with the cause of shots fired to be undetermined.

The door slid open.

Prowl looked up as a handful of cubes were set on the desk, and Sunstreaker took possession of the guest chair in Prowl's office. Without a word, the yellow twin pulled out a folder full of very large sheets of Earth paper and began drawing with a very large piece of graphite.

Prowl watched him for a while, inwardly surprised as he truly didn't know much about either of the twin's personal lives, let alone hobbies that didn't include fighting or pranks. He turned his optics to his datapad.

"Sunstreaker?"

"Yes?"

"Do you know who shot first?"

Sunstreaker's blank expression seemed to sour. "Does it matter? We won. The human was unharmed. The Decepticons were sent packing."

"Well, it does matter. If someone on the Autobot side did fire first, then it was a direct refusal to follow orders…"

Sunstreaker frowned. "And if I told you, then you'd throw whoever it was in the brig. Then everyone would hate you. Or at least, that person would. Then they'd all wish they hadn't thrown that party in your honor. Or Bee's. Or whoever's honor it is now."

"Was it you?"

"No."

Prowl cycled air.

Sunstreaker set down his paper. "Look, Prowl, the Decepticons would have slagged that human anyway. You know they would have. I'm surprised he was still alive when the battle started. Megatron was setting a trap for Prime. Even you know that."

"It's rather beside the point."

"Sometimes you have to disobey orders."

"I've yet to see a clear instance…"

Sunstreaker met his optics. "Okay, so if the shot hadn't been fired, Megatron would have slagged the human in front of Prime, made him look like some slagging fool, and then fought us anyway. We saved Prime some face, saved the human, and kept Megatron from stealing more energon. Don't go giving me some 'principle' slag either. You know I'm right."

Prowl frowned. Sunstreaker was right. However, it still meant that someone had disobeyed orders, and that many mechs had lied to him, and now Sunstreaker himself was protecting the perpetrator. His optics turned to the paper that Sunstreaker had resumed drawing on. After a breem, he spoke. "What are you drawing?"

"You."

"Me?"

"Yep." Sunstreaker held up the pad. Prowl's own visage stared at him, although somewhat different. The way his optics looked, even the turn of his mouth…

"That is not how I look."

"Yes it is," Sunstreaker returned to drawing.

"I look younger in that drawing." Happier.

"Most people don't know how they look to others. Even more people don't see in others what other people refuse to show. Drawing something isn't about just drawing what you see. It's about drawing what you see."

"I don't think I understand."

"What do you see when you look at me?"

"I see you. Sunstreaker."

"That's it?"

"Yes."

Sunstreaker frowned. "Then you aren't really looking."

Prowl was intrigued. He sat back in his seat. "Then what is it that you see when you look at me?"

"The same slag everyone else sees."

"Then I don't see your point."

"I see it in a different way. Others see a superior officer. A thing, a word. Maybe Prime doesn't, maybe even a few others. But everyone sees a whip cracker. Emotionless, logical, hard and cold. The mech who'd rather be working on reports to show everyone that work comes before pleasure, and there is always work to do."

Prowl's optics flashed. "I see. And you?"

"You like what you do. You don't do work because it needs to be done and because you have an example to project. You do it because you like it. Those reports are to you what parties are to Jazz. You aren't emotionless. People think curiosity and disapproval aren't emotions. Loyalty is an emotion. So is whatever that drives you to that loyalty. Whatever made you become Second in Command."

"I wouldn't think of it that way, but go on."

"People choose to do things based on needs and wants, and your CPU has little to do with that."

"You're saying that just because I choose a logical focus in my existence, doesn't exempt me from emotions."

"You aren't a drone."

Prowl frowned. "They think I'm a drone?"

Sunstreaker smirked. "There's the emotion right there."

"Is that your explanation for me?"

"I am right." Sunstreaker continued drawing.

Prowl looked down at his datapad. He tapped at it.

_Results of investigation: Inconclusive._


	4. Chapter 4

"Inconclusive?"

"Yes, sir."

Optimus Prime lifted his optics from the datapad to Prowl. "In all the time I have worked with you…"

"You have never received an inconclusive report."

"Yes," Prime set down the datapad on his desk and took the seat behind it. "Prowl, I know someone on the Autobot side shot first. And I know you know this as well."

"Yes, sir."

"And you…don't want to find out who that was?"

Prowl hesitated. "In…the light of the outcome of this particular situation, I think that yes, we should know who shot first, and they should be dealt punishment accordingly, however, I feel that we should…appreciate the efforts of our soldiers to think for themselves and take action when they feel action should be taken." He paused. "At least, in this situation."

"You feel that if that person had not taken the shot, the mission would have ended in failure."

"I informed you as such beforehand that the probability of rescuing the human alive would only be twenty four percent, and that is with the most optimal of circumstances. However, Megatron had his army present, including Seekers and Constructicons, and was already making away with stolen energon. Before we had even taken the field, he had reneged on his part of any negotiations that were to have taken place."

"But the human was alive."

"I doubt he would have been after," Prowl frowned and let his door wings sag. "Sir, I understand that such a result to this investigation is a complete breach of protocol, and siding with this course of action would be completely against the Autobot code of diplomacy and attempts to resolve all conflicts in a peaceful manner when possible, however, I am more than willing to take on the consequences of the actions…"

"Its fine, Prowl," Optimus interrupted. He brought out another datapad and held it up. "It had been an accident. Bluestreak had slipped on the trigger. He told me this morning."

Prowl tried not to let his surprise show. His lips parted. "Are you…sure?"

"Yes. I understand that you feel the need to protect our soldiers, especially when the life of a human is involved, but in such a circumstance, we did get lucky that no one was badly hurt and that the human survived the ordeal."

A scowl threatened to mar Prowl's faceplates. "Yes, of course, sir. It won't happen again."

"However…I am glad to see that you trust your subordinates. Their actions may not have been logical, or possibly could not have been, and yes we relied on chance for the outcome of this battle, but it is always good to see that you are willing to take that chance if your subordinates feel it may be the right course of action."

Prowl felt his logic circuits try to keep up. "Yes…sir. Of course."

Prime dismissed him, and he left, trying his hardest to understand just what had happened.

All he knew, however, was that he was angry.

……..

It had come out before he could restrain himself. He was off duty. So was Sunstreaker. He knew the frontliner would be in one of two places: wash racks, or his quarters.

Prowl found himself in the wash racks, his fists clenching. Sunstreaker was washing up, and Hound sat on a bench off to the side, trying his best to chink mud out of his armor between his hand and wrist. Both looked up when he entered, and he forced himself to calm down. "Hound, if you could please give me a few breems."

Sunstreaker looked at the jet spray that was currently showering him with cleanser. Hound nodded and left.

Prowl turned to Sunstreaker, who continued as he had before. This angered Prowl even more. He wanted to burst out in anger, to let it just go, but…

"I do not appreciate being made to look like a fool in front of Prime."

Sunstreaker didn't even look up. "I asked Bluestreak to confess because I knew you'd try to take the blame yourself."

Prowl's fists clenched more. "What are you trying to do?"

Sunstreaker turned to him and allowed the cleanser to spray down his back. "Making sure you aren't a drone."

"I thought you said that's not what you saw." Prowl shook his head. "Forget it. This is absurd. In the future, please do not withhold information during an official investigation. I am not your friend, Sunstreaker. I am your superior officer, and I do not appreciate being made to look like a fool, or being a part of any 'experiment' or prank you or your brother may feel is necessary to pass time between patrols and battles."

Sunstreaker frowned, his optics seeming to darken. "I didn't withhold information."

"You had Bluestreak confess."

"That doesn't mean he did it." Sunstreaker stepped out from the cleansing shower and allowed it to turn off automatically. "Look…I wasn't trying to get you in trouble." He frowned and pulled out a cloth. "You know what? Forget it."

Prowl caught his arm as he was trying to go by. Sunstreaker looked at his hand, then at him, his glare burning. Prowl glared right back, his optics cold despite what he was certain was anger showing through to his faceplates. "Do we have an understanding, soldier?"

Sunstreaker wrenched his arm away. It gave a squeal of protest, and the yellow twin cupped his wrist. "Yes, _sir_."

Prowl let Sunstreaker leave, his fists clenching once more.


	5. Chapter 5

"You look fragged off."

Jazz sat down next to Sideswipe, his grin pointed to Sunstreaker. The yellow twin said nothing, but let his glare speak for him. Jazz laughed.

"He's just pissed because Prowl invaded his 'me time'," Sideswipe grinned.

"Nah, I know why he's pissed," Jazz shrugged. "Look, it's not the first time anyone's tried to show Prowl that there's more to existing than facts and numbers. The truth is with Prowl, that's all existing is."

Sunstreaker frowned at the black and white mech. "What makes you think I give a slag about what Prowl thinks?"

"Because Bluestreak, who looks up to you two for some reason, confessed to Prime that he shot first last week," Jazz smirked. "Bluestreak didn't shoot first."

"Yeah?" Sideswipe asked. "Then who did?"

"Me, of course," Jazz's grin widened when he received dual glares. "We all get why it happened. Obviously I did. So did all the others standin' next to me, because they didn't say nothin'. You agree with it. And you tried to get Prowl to go along with it. However, there's somethin' to Prowl you gotta realize, somethin' that will always get in front of him seein' things any other way than black and white."

"Logic?" Sideswipe offered.

"His battle computer," Sunstreaker supplied.

"Ha! You know, he can turn that slag off whenever he wants?" Jazz gave a laugh. "Naw, see, it's his ego. Pride and ego. He's got a reputation, and he'd go down dyin' if it meant that he'd do so makin' everyone think he was a cold hard bastard, but at least he was the perfect example of the Autobot way. I mean, anymore so, he'd have to be Prime."

"That's a bit presumptuous," Sunstreaker said flatly.

"Of him or me?"

"You. You make it sound like Prowl only wants to be Prime."

"Is it so hard to believe? But he ain't ever gonna be a Prime. He worked with Sentinel Prime. Now he works with Optimus. The Matrix ain't gonna choose someone like Prowl. See, Prime's got a balance. He's got wisdom. All Prowl's got is logic and statistics."

"How'd you figure out all this?" Sideswipe asked. "Sounds like you've been stalkin' the guy."

Jazz's grin faded. "You weren't the first one to try and 'be his friend', Sunny."

"Don't call me that."

"Everyone tries every now and then. The only friendship Prowl wants is Prime's. Even then, it ain't nothin' but black and white. Kinda suiting, I think, bein' that's what color he is."

"You're black and white," Sideswipe pointed out.

"Yeah, but even I can appreciate the gray areas, if you get what I mean," Jazz grinned. He smirked at Sunstreaker. The yellow twin was looking off in thought, his hand rubbing his sore arm. "You're thinkin' up somethin', aren't you?"

"You wouldn't understand why, though."

"Sunny, you might as well give up. He ain't gonna give you anything."

"You're wrong. I saw it today. He was upset."

"Yeah, it happens."

"This was different. There was anger. I'm sure if I had stayed a few moments longer, he would have blown up."

"I doubt it."

"You'd have to see it."

"Show me then."

Sunstreaker glared at Jazz but stood. He thought, then stood straight, his posture perfect, his face calm, his fists clenched.

Jazz turned to Sideswipe, who shrugged. "That's it?"

"You said he has pride and an ego. He told me I made him look like a fool in front of Prime." Sunstreaker sat again.

"Ouch," Jazz cringed. "So what? You just playin' some game, tryin' to see what reaction you can get from him?"

"In a way."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," Sideswipe interrupted. "You know how it is. I mean, you can only use pranks so much."

Jazz looked at each twin. "Uh huh. Alright then, you want a reaction, I think I can help ya get one. But you gotta do as I say."

"I dunno. Maybe you should let him blow the steam off for a while, then apologize," Sideswipe said. He shrugged. "I mean, when I frag someone off that bad, that's usually what I do."

"And then you go and frag 'em off again," Jazz pointed out.

"It's the thought that counts."

Sunstreaker eyed them both. He focused on Jazz. "What do you have in mind?"

……………..

Prowl's optics fixated on the wall across from his berth. He had been too distracted from Sunstreaker to continue with work. Now he was thinking too much to allow his systems to fall into recharge.

At first, he had appreciated Sunstreaker's company. He had been quiet. Not wanting to be bothered.

After the meeting with Prime, he was sure the twins were up to something. He had been the brunt of the twins' pranks several times, as had many others had been at the Ark. But to be made to seem incompetent in front of Prime…

What irked him more was that, for some reason, he had bought what Sunstreaker had said. He had allowed himself to act outside of logic and protocol.

Every time he had ever done so, the results had been less than optimal.

"Shhh!"

Prowl turned his optics to the door of his quarters. He heard someone moving about outside. Attempts to be quiet. A muffled laugh. Jazz, and someone else. He stood and went to the door, and so as to not create noise, opened it slowly.

He could make out the darkened forms of two mechs down the hall, pressed up against the wall as a huddled shape that left nothing to the imagination. The two whispered, possibly overcharged, and laughed amongst themselves as quietly as they could manage. Blue optics and a blue visor provided the only light in the dark.

Someone tall. Someone…

They laughed.

Sideswipe.

Prowl opened his mouth to protest their presence in the hall, and Jazz's blatant disregard for the no fraternization rule between officers and subordinates.

Drone.

He shut his mouth and looked away, then allowed the door to shut, leaving the two in the hall.

"Do you think he saw us?" Sideswipe hissed.

"Kinda hard not to," Jazz muttered. He looked down the hall towards Prowl's quarters. "I caught him in the corner of my visor; let me play it back." He paused, then grinned. "Yeah, he saw us. Was gonna say somethin' too."

"Is that all we're supposed to do?"

"Well," Jazz grinned up at the red twin. "We could finish this."

"What?"

"I figure, I'm already gonna get lectured about it tomorrow morning, so I might as well." His grin widened. "Hell, maybe even reprimanded from Prime. I mean…there is a no fraternization rule. At least, from officers to subordinates."

Sideswipe couldn't hide the surprise in his voice. "You like breaking rules?"

"Yeah, sometimes."

Now it was Sideswipe's turn to grin. "I'd hate to disappoint."


	6. Chapter 6

"I didn't…"

"Be quiet."

Sunstreaker shut up and stood in front of Prowl's desk, waiting. The tactician moved to the chair behind the desk and sat, propped his elbows on the desk and his head in his hands, his optics on the yellow twin. "If you tell me you convinced Jazz and Sideswipe to interface last night, I will only send you to the brig."

Sunscreaker scoffed. "Why in the pit would I say something like that?"

"Because if you don't, Sideswipe gets thrown in the brig, you spend time cleaning every inch of this ship, and Jazz is possibly demoted with time in the brig for disobeying rules set for officers concerning fraternization."

Sunstreaker scowled and crossed his arms. "And what makes you think I had anything to do with it?"

"I'm not stupid, Sunstreaker. I warned you to drop this game, and you refused to listen. We're fighting a war. I do not have time to mess around with games and pranks."

"You can't…"

"I can and I will," Prowl sat back in his seat, his optics cold. "You can avoid punishment for your brother and Jazz, and this getting around to Prime. A week in the brig is nothing compared to what those two will face. I am sure you are not as selfish as we'd all like to believe you are, just as I am not a drone as you'd like to think I am."

Sunstreaker's scowl deepened.

"Choose wisely," Prowl said as he watched the yellow warrior tense up. "Of course, had you done so in the first place, instead of playing games and such, had you just asked what you wanted to know in the first place, this could have all been avoided."

"You would never tell me anything."

Prowl shrugged. "Same with you."

"Why? Are you interested?"

"Are you?" Prowl stood. "Of course, I shouldn't even ask. I already know the answer. I didn't say anything to your brother and Jazz. I still can, however. Think about that."

Sunstreaker's scowl didn't budge. "Then why should I go to the brig?"

"One, to show Jazz that he shouldn't involve others in his own schemes, two, to keep you from involving me in your schemes, and three," Prowl paused. "For making Bluestreak lie."

Sunstreaker balked.

"I know it was Jazz. As soon as he got involved, I knew he shot first. He can't resist getting his digs in, and when you failed in getting me in trouble with Prime, he turned to other tactics. He's been trying for eons to prove to Prime that I am unfit for my position, or at least, unfit to be the second under Prime. He thinks all I want is to _be_ Prime," Prowl looked away. "That is not why I am an Autobot."

"Why are you, then?"

Prowl frowned. "Why are you?"

Sunstreaker's lips tightened.

"Maybe that is a discussion for another time," Prowl said calmly. "Before then, however, there is the matter concerning you, your brother, and Jazz."

Sunstreaker fidgeted. "I hate the brig."

"It's the only way to get them to stop."

"What?"

"If you spend time in the brig, they will drop the subject, that is, if you tell them to," Prowl's back stiffened. "I am sure you'd understand if I said that I do not like others meddling in my affairs."

Sunstreaker fidgeted, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. It'd be easier to…what? Be friends with Prowl? Prowl had already stated that they weren't friends. Enjoy each other's company? As if.

But it would get Jazz and Sideswipe out of his business.

Even he wasn't sure what that business was.

"Fine," Sunstreaker spat. "I suspect this happens immediately?"

"Unless you'd like to go retrieve your sketching materials?"

"I never leave those behind."

"Then yes, immediately."

Sunstreaker's scowl deepened, but he allowed Prowl to lead him out the door and towards the brig, although he knew the way. He went into the cell without asking, and waited as Prowl activated the energy bars. The lights, dimmed, and Prowl made to leave.

"This had better be fragging worth it, Prowl," Sunstreaker said, his voice cutting through the dead silence of the brig. "Whatever the slag it is."

Prowl gave a nod. "Yes. I hope so as well."

The lights went out, and Prowl left.


	7. Chapter 7

It was going to crash.

Prowl could tell when his battle computer would crash. There were just some things it could not do, and there were some things it did do that conflicted with his normal processing abilities. While it provided a basis of logic and did work with his personality components rather well, there were some parts of his personality components that had always seemed incompatible.

Luckily, it was rare when these incompatibilities made themselves known.

However, when they did, it resulted in a processor "tug of war", as the humans put it, as each computer seemed to battle it out for processing rights within his mechanical mind. Neither side ever won. Instead, his battle computer would freeze, and in an attempt to deflect self harm from what could be defective components, his entire processing system would freeze.

This time, it was him trying to work, and yet his mind kept straying to…

A signal came at the door; someone wished to be let into his office. Prowl set down his datapad. "Come in."

The door opened and Sideswipe stepped in.

Not the mech he wanted to see. Not at all. No, not when his processor kept replaying the shadowed visages of the red twin and Jazz, in the hall…

"Prowl?"

Prowl's chin jerked, his optics focusing on Sideswipe. "Can I help you, Sideswipe?"

"Yeah…I mean, yes, sir, uh…" the red twin fidgeted. "I was wondering if you were going to let my brother out of the brig."

_Brother?_

"Sunstreaker…he was supposed to get out today?"

_Oh…right…_

"Is everything alright? You seem kinda…out of it."

Prowl gave a slight frown. "I am fine. And yes, I apologize. I should have released him some time ago." The second in command stood and left, not seeming to mind as Sideswipe followed him to the brig.

Sideswipe kept his optics on his superior's doors as he followed him to the brig. Something was wrong. Prowl never _forgot_ anything. He didn't profess to be an expert in all things Prowl, but anyone who had spent a few breems with him would know he was not acting himself.

In the brig, Sunstreaker waited on the berth in his cell, arms folded and a scowl on his faceplates. "It's about slagging time," he grumbled as he spotted the two. Prowl said nothing and raised the bars, and turned to go. "What, no speech? No, 'don't do it again'?"

Prowl hesitated near the door for a brief second. "You resume duties tomorrow. Your schedules are available." He then left.

"That was weird," Sideswipe said. He turned to his brother. "Maybe he's got a virus."

"He's glitching, that's for sure," Sunstreaker shrugged. "Whatever. The slagger left me in here for near half an orn more than he was supposed to."

"Yeah, let's get out of here."

The two left, moving through the _Ark_ and passing all the officer "offices", or rather, empty store rooms that had had partitions put up to resemble some sort of private area. They moved past Prowl's office.

The door was shut.

Sunstreaker eyed it before they continued on their way, but before they left the area, he stopped.

Sideswipe walked a few more steps and stopped as well. "Bro?"

"I'll catch up."

"C'mon, we're going to…"

"I said, I'll catch up!"

Sideswipe cursed something and moved off.

Sunstreaker turned back to the corridor and went to Prowl's door. He signaled the door and waited.

The door slid open.

Prowl looked up. His hand rested against his forehead, and he sat slumped forward towards the desk. He straightened as the yellow twin stepped inside. "I…apologize, Sunstreaker. I hadn't meant to leave you in the brig longer than we had agreed…"

"You're glitching."

Prowl looked offended. "I am not."

"You never forget anything, Prowl."

"I am operating at optimal…"

"Save it. What's the malfunction?"

Prowl shook his head and stood. "I need to see Ratchet."

Sunstreaker caught his arm as he tried to move past, and pushed him towards the desk. "What's going on?"

"Nothing."

"This doesn't look like 'nothing'."

"It's rather normal, Sunstreaker, now please, allow me to…" Prowl looked up at the twin, and then that's when his battle computer decided to freeze slightly. Prowl's body tensed, his knees locking and jaw gritting, a split second of gears forcing at each other to move.

Sunstreaker grabbed Prowl by both shoulders and gave him a shake. Prowl flinched, and then moved.

"…see Ratchet."

"Your battle computer is glitching."

"No, it is locking up."

"Then shut it off."

"Shut it…" Prowl frowned. "I cannot just 'shut it off', Sunstreaker…"

"Just do it."

"It doesn't work that way!"

"Just shut off your slagging battle computer!" Sunstreaker scowled when he felt Prowl begin to lock up again. "Prowl!"

Prowl fought his grip, then seemed to relax, his knees suddenly unlocking. Sunstreaker helped him regain his balance and set him to lean against the desk. The yellow twin twisted to peer at Prowl's face, but Prowl turned his head away.

"Well?"

"It's off."

"And? What's it like?"

"What's it…?" Prowl raised his head, his optics meeting the yellow twin's. "It's like…" His optics moved to Sunstreaker's lips. Identical to Sideswipe's lips. Sideswipe. _Sideswipe…and Jazz…_

Thought was harder to track, let alone regulate.

"Prowl? Alright, look, let's go to Ratchet. Primus, what the hell…"

"Shut up," Prowl muttered.

Sunstreaker's vocalizer gave feedback in offense. "Excuse me?"

Prowl took that moment to grab the yellow twin, behind the head and by his decorative crests and pull his face to his. Without a moment's hesitation he kissed Sunstreaker, pulling the mech off balance and causing him to grab onto the desk to prevent them both from crashing off it and onto the floor.


	8. Chapter 8

After the surprise had worn away, Sunstreaker pushed Prowl back, and found himself faced with an angered expression. "What the slag, Prowl?"

"I would think I shouldn't have to explain."

"Is that what you want then? Is that your malfunction?"

"Yes, and if I don't get it from you I _will_ go find someone else."

Sunstreaker's optics flickered, then fought Prowl back to sitting on the desk when he tried to get from between the desk and the twin. This was interesting. Not what he had expected, but very interesting. "Nuh uh," Sunstreaker forced him against the desk. "I'm not letting you outside this office by yourself. Not like this."

Prowl sneered. "I thought you wanted to take me to Ratchet."

"And get in trouble for making you shut down your battle computer and make you go crazy? I don't think so," he scowled when Prowl fought at him again. "Don't try. I _am_ stronger than you." He waited until Prowl had calmed, at least, had stopped struggling. The tactician's expression nearly snarled, and his optics had a focus about them that made Sunstreaker uneasy. "Just tell me what brought this on."

"Don't act stupid, Sunstreaker. We've only been dancing around this for the past few weeks."

Sunstreaker frowned. Is that what they had been doing? "Have we?"

"Although I admit, getting Jazz and Sideswipe to do your dirty work was a good idea, but you forget that I am always one step ahead. It's why I am what I am," he struggled again. "And don't you fragging forget it."

"And they say I have an ego," Sunstreaker frowned. "You know, Jazz was right."

Prowl scoffed. "I don't want to hear about Jazz. Or Sideswipe. So don't bring either of them up."

"Sideswipe?" Sunstreaker frowned. He had had no intention of bringing up Sideswipe, but now that Prowl had, his thoughts took a familiar turn. "This is about Sides, isn't it?" He thought of how Prowl had convinced him to go to the brig after Jazz and Sideswipe concocted the plan to prank Prowl. He shoved Prowl back, releasing him in disgust. "It always has been, right?" He shuddered as revulsion overcame him, held up his hands in defeat and turned to the door.

"It's not."

Sunstreaker turned and glared at the tactician, who remained leaning against the desk, as if afraid to test how his body would move if he left its aid. "Don't fragging _lie_, Prowl! It's _always_ about Sides! It wouldn't matter if he was uglier than the Pit, he still has a lying smile for anyone and bears his cheap self to everyone to see, and everyone falls for it, even you!"

A hint of Prowl's previous calm demeanor snaked through his voice. "Don't talk about your brother in such a way. You care about him."

"Don't think for one slagging minute that you know anything about my brother and I!" His body tensed, seeming to pull in and from itself at the same time. "Just admit it. You want Sideswipe but he's not the one standing here, so you'd settle…"

"For you?" Prowl frowned. "You're jealous of your brother."

This only seemed to enrage Sunstreaker further. "Shut the frag up, Prowl."

Prowl felt his lust suddenly replaced by anger. "How dare you…think that I would be so low."

Sunstreaker felt his fuel pump nearly still by the tone of Prowl's voice. The tactician had set him under an icy glare. He didn't move however, and didn't rescind his declaration. "You can have him, if you want him. That is, as soon as Jazz is done with him."

Prowl stepped forward, his stance not unlike Sunstreaker's own. "Get out of my office!"

The yellow warrior turned and left. As soon as the door had slid shut, Prowl grabbed up the nearest datapad and flung it at the door in a rage that he had no idea how to process, and when it shattered and crumbled to the ground it only fueled the unspeakable anger further.

…………..

Ratchet entered the med bay to see Prowl sitting on one of the berths, his head in his hands. He cycled air, recognizing the posture Prowl always took while waiting for him to repair his battle computer. A quick scan confirmed his suspicions that the battle computer was offline. "I really wish you'd let me reconfigure the connections between your processor and battle computer."

Prowl shook his head and straightened. He was unable to mask the quiver in his voice. "It didn't crash."

"No? It sure looks like it had…"

"I shut it off." Prowl looked down, as if ashamed of his admission. "I…think I said some things that I shouldn't have said."

Ratchet frowned. It wasn't his place to know Prowl's personal business, if he had any. He motioned for Prowl to lie back on the berth, but Prowl ignored it. "C'mon, Prowl, I need to put you into temporary stasis so that I can reset your battle computer."

Prowl looked up at him. "It _was_ about Sideswipe. At first."

"Sure it was," Ratchet tried not to grow impatient. Whenever Prowl's battle computer crashed, he had a hard time reigning in his emotions. Theoretically he should be able to, but for some reason the lack of a more stable backing for his logic circuits seemed to send his processor into an imbalance. "Let's go." He reached up to trigger the stasis sequence, but Prowl stopped him by pushing away his hand. "Prowl…"

Prowl's voice came out quiet and almost timid. "Please make sure this never happens again."

"Prowl, in order to make sure this never happens again, I'd have to replace a lot of faulty parts, and reconfigure a lot of programming," Ratchet looked Prowl dead in the optics. "That means a major surgery. I can do it, but you've always protested because of how long it would keep you from your position."

Prowl considered this. "If it means that I won't…be this way again…"

Now Ratchet was growing concerned. He had never seen Prowl carry on this way after a crash. "What happened, Prowl?"

"It was about Sideswipe," Prowl repeated. "But now it's not."

"What isn't?"

Prowl just looked away. "Just do it. Please, Ratchet. I don't care how long I'm out."

Ratchet cycled air and nodded. "Alright. I'll put a word in to Prime." He then triggered the stasis and eased Prowl back onto the berth.


	9. Chapter 9

The surgery was going to take quite a bit of time, but it wasn't something Ratchet was unable to fix. The only reason why Prowl had never opted for it was because of how long it would take, and if Prowl was anything, he was a workaholic. Ratchet believed that Prowl believed that any sort of downtime, even from injuries, was a sign of failure on his part.

Ratchet set down his tools and checked Prowl's status. His helm was off, with his processor internals exposed. Several cables snaked from his cranial unit, attaching to various coding machines which were busy rewriting a few programs that controlled the shift between his processor and battle computer.

Prowl would be out for at least two Earth days.

The doors to the med bay opened; Ratchet turned to see who it was and frowned to see Sideswipe there, sporting new dents and scratches, including one that nearly caved his faceplates in over his left cheek. "What the slag happened to you?"

Sideswipe scowled. "Do you need to ask? Sunshine felt like rearranging my features, although I really don't know why."

Ratchet's frown deepened. He motioned for Sideswipe to sit at a berth a ways from Prowl, but Sideswipe had already spied the tactician. Sideswipe glared at his inert form.

"Although he did mention Prowl."

"Yeah, Prowl mentioned you too," Ratchet grabbed Sideswipe by the crook of an elbow and led him to the berth he wanted him to sit on. "You know I'm going to have to report this to Jazz, right?"

"Why Jazz?"

"Prowl is out of commission for the time, obviously. Jazz is taking over his responsibilities until he is well enough to resume duty. Sit."

Sideswipe sat. His tone sounded surprised. "Jazz is acting Second in Command?" He looked at Prowl once more. "What happened to him?"

"He shut off his battle computer. Sometimes it crashes. I guess he felt shutting it down would be better than letting it crash, but the results are the same," Ratchet pulled out a few tools and began removing Sideswipe's helm. He set it on the berth behind the warrior and then set to removing the dented faceplate.

"What? Does he go bonkers? Because the way Sunstreaker was acting…"

"It really isn't your business, Sideswipe." The dented faceplate was removed, revealing the mechanisms underneath that controlled expression and movement, as well as the socket of his optics and the lens setting.

Sideswipe cast him a glare. "I just got the slag beat out of me by my brother. I've never seen him so angry. I think it's my business, since he had been talking to Prowl right before I got slagged."

Ratchet pursed his lips in realization. "Well…okay, let me explain this in terms you'll understand."

Sideswipe folded his arms.

"Remember the Hoover Dam? We went there for a publicity event a few years back?"

"Yeah?"

"Think of Prowl's battle computer as the dam itself. On one side you have very little water, because it's released in a very controlled way. On the other side, you have a lot of water that is just sitting there. Think of this water as Prowl's emotions. With the use of his battle computer, his emotions are very, very controlled, to the point that they're nearly non-existent," Ratchet began hammering out the dent. "Now, imagine if the dam suddenly broke."

Sideswipe's lips parted in slight shock, the mechanisms of his face clicking as they moved. "Oh."

"Now, Prowl's the kind of person who would rather patch up that dam and continue having all that water build up instead of finding a balance, because hey, Megatron and Optimus have just decided to hold a fight right in Nevada," Ratchet held up the faceplate to inspect it, then continued repairing it. "I suppose whatever happened this time while his battle computer was down was enough to convince him that he needed to find a better solution than what he had been existing with."

"He fragged off Sunny, that's what he did."

"Everyone frags off Sunstreaker, Sideswipe." Ratchet attached the mended faceplate and began reassembling Sideswipe's helm.

"Yeah but…I dunno, I think Sunstreaker has a thing for him. I mean, when Jazz…"

"Sideswipe, I really do not want to know," Ratchet lied. He wanted to know, but he was smart enough to deduce things for himself. However, a Sunstreaker-Sideswipe-Prowl love triangle – as tank churning as it may be – concerned him less than what Jazz might have to do with it.

And just mentioning his name convinced Ratchet that Jazz had everything to do with it.

……………

Jazz looked down at the datapads coating Prowl's desk. Each one had a report that he really would rather not read, but he knew he had to. He picked one up and began to read it when the door to Prowl's office slid open and Ratchet stepped in.

"Hey Ratch'," Jazz greeted. His greeting was returned with a glare and folded arms. "Uh, what can I do for you?"

"You just can't fragging let it go, can you?"

"'Scuse me?"

Ratchet stepped forward and put his hands on the desk so he could lean forward and stare Jazz directly into the optic. "When Prowl comes in for surgery and then I'm banging dents out of the twins, and your name is at the end of it all, I know something's up. You tried, Jazz. It didn't work out."

Jazz frowned, but leaned back in his seat. "Look, I know all about Sunny's infatuation with Prowl…"

"Butt out, Jazz," Ratchet said, straightening. "You couldn't handle Prowl, just like you can't handle his workload," he motioned to the mess of datapads on the desk.

"I don't think I like what you're insinuatin'..."

"Yeah, well, I don't like having to be the one insinuating things," Ratchet crossed his arms again. "Also, I'm here to report that I had to repair Sideswipe because of a fight that Sunstreaker started, mostly because Sunstreaker might have thought that Prowl had something for Sideswipe, for some reason that I'm sure has to do with you, because of something Prowl said when his battle computer went down…or was shut off I would say."

"That doesn't mean I had anything…"

"Only I, Prime, Prowl, and you know that he can shut down his battle computer if he needs to," Ratchet shook his head. "You only know because you convinced him to once before. But you didn't deluge to the twins that if it goes down, things go a bit haywire. I don't know if your plan is to humiliate Prowl or what, but knock it off. It didn't work out, Jazz. You're not the only one who was disappointed."

Jazz looked down at the desk. "So now what? You gonna tell Prime?"

"I would hope that we're both above that."

"Yeah…I guess so."

Ratchet straightened and watched as Jazz moped to himself. "I don't get it Jazz. You act like you loved him or something."

Jazz flinched, then cracked a grin. "C'mon now, Ratch'. You know me."

"Do I?"

"Yeah. Look…I wasn't tryin' to stir up trouble. I'll talk to the twins when they calm down. I didn't think they'd take me serious."

Ratchet frowned, looking unconvinced.

"Is Prowl gonna be alright?"

"He'll be fine."

Jazz nodded and looked down at the datapads. "Well, he's gonna love what Prime's got to tell him, but I'm sure he already knew. Ultra Magnus' crew is calling for a retreat from Cybertron."

"What?!" Ratchet held out his hand for the report. Jazz relinquished it and allowed Ratchet to read a bit before speaking again.

"They wanna get out before their last outpost is discovered. Of course, this is old news, and the femmes are already on the moon outposts."

"So what now?"

"Optimus wants to switch out the warriors. Give 'em a break. Bring Ultra Magnus here, and post us out there. In segments, of course," Jazz shrugged. "To be honest, I was getting' kinda tired of this piddly slag anyway. Earth is nice, but let's face it…it ain't home."

Ratchet nodded. "If that's the case, then Prowl already knew."

Jazz nodded. "No one's gonna be too happy 'bout being broken up, but from Prowl's notes, it seems like he's gotta plan to toss things up a bit."

He held up another datapad, which Ratchet took and read.

"Oh, slag."

"Yep."


	10. Chapter 10

_"Just...shut it down, Prowl..."_

_"Jazz, I cannot just shut down my battle computer," Prowl looked up from his seat on the berth. Jazz stood over him, the heat of his body making it difficult for Prowl to concentrate on anything else. Why was he here? This was a bad idea. It had all been a bad idea...___

_"Hey," Jazz pushed back at Prowl's shoulders gently until the SIC had lowered to lean back on his elbows. Jazz clambored onto his lap, straddling him, and pressed his lips against Prowl's faceplates. "I know it's holdin' ya back. I know, Prowl. I wanna see ya...how ya really are...because I know somewhere in there, ya really want this..."___

_Did he? Prowl didn't know. He did know that he didn't feel comfortable, and that he did have an early call to rise to, and that he was reacting to Jazz's advances, but did he really _want _to interface?___

_"Just shut it down," Jazz whispered. "I promise...I'll take care of ya..."___

_Prowl hesitated, then executed the commands to shut down his battle computer.___

_Jazz used that moment to snap his cable into a jack under Prowl's bumper.___

_"Primus..."_

.................

Prowl knew he had a mess he needed to clean up. Despite his best efforts, things had gotten out of hand, and despite his wish to resolve things...the information on his desk told him that once again, his personal problems had to take a back seat. Now, more than ever, he wished to disappear into his work, but he was presented with a new problem that before his re-coding, he had not had.

The pressure of his battle computer had eased. He felt fully integrated with it, as if it were truly a part of him. Which meant he no longer had the ability to hide behind it - for that's what he had been doing - when it came to his own emotions. There was still control...but the tables had turned. Now he was in control of that control...and it was going to take some time to get used to.

He accessed a private comm link, but hesitated. How was he going to do this? How did he do this before?

.................

_The berth was cold when Jazz came online. His hand instinctively reached out to the empty space beside him, but it was empty. He allowed himself to boot up completely and realized that he was alone.___

_Prowl was gone.___

_Jazz frowned. Maybe Prowl had just had an early call, and didn't want to wake him? Jazz didn't feel reassured. ___

_The interfacing had been one of the best sessions he had ever had. Prowl had been unbridled and impassioned, perhaps even fierce with his data. The integration had been forceful and intense and frantic, and for once, Jazz felt like he was just along for the ride. But now, while accessing his memory circuits, he realized that his connection hadn't gone through. Prowl had dominated him so much so that Jazz was left feeling a bit disturbed, and as he looked down on himself and saw the scrapes and finger shaped dents in his armor, he grew more disturbed.___

_It's not how he had imagined it would be to be with Prowl. They were equals in skill and processing power. Friends. They spent so much time working together...surely Prowl would be keen to him, just like anyone else had been...___

_He got up and headed towards his post. He was sure there'd be time to talk about it with Prowl later. He told himself that Prowl would want to talk about it.___

_He had to._

_..........___

Prowl cycled air and sent his request through. For the first time in vorns, he felt true apprehension. In light of the changes he and Prime were going to inact, he knew this was just 'salt on the wound', as the humans put it, although he couldn't understand what sodium chloride and an energon leak or plating repair had to do with it...

The door to his office opened and Sunstreaker stepped through. The yellow twin regarded him with a scowl, but soon turned his optics away and refused to meet Prowl's glare. His words were ground out, and his hands clenched into fists. "...sir."

Prowl waited until the door shut. "Please, Sunstreaker. At ease."

Sunstreaker did not relax. His body seemed to tense further.

"Sunstreaker, please sit..."

"I don't _want_ to sit," Sunstreaker spat. "If you haven't got anything important to say, I'm outta here..."

"It is important..."

"I really have nothing to say to you, Prowl, so unless you have an order to give me, let me get back to my duties," Sunstreaker ground out, his optics meeting Prowl's. "_Sir._"

Prowl frowned. He was glad he had nothing in his hands, for his fingers flinched on the desktop. Angry. Yes, he was _angry_ at this, at Sunstreaker, at his attitude, at how he couldn't make Sunstreaker react the way he wanted to... As angry as he had been before he had seen Ratchet, but this time he knew there was no danger of throwing things. Yes, he could control this...on his own. "Very well," he turned to his datapad. "Then I must remind you, Sunstreaker, once again, that infighting will not be tolerated."

"You called me in to throw me in the brig?" Sunstreaker scoffed.

"No. I called you in to apologize, but I see that it will have no effect on you."

"Slagging straight."

"Watch your tone, soldier," Prowl ordered. He stood. Sunstreaker actually flinched, despite the SIC being a head shorter than he was. "I am not punishing you because you have new orders. A team is deploying to the moon bases. A unit from there will be transferring here. I am integrating that unit into existing units here. You, Jazz, Warpath, and Hound will be the first group..."

"You're splitting me from Sides?" Sunstreaker's angry tone was gone, replaced by shock.

"You dispatch via shuttle tomorrow at five AM," Prowl finished. He met Sunstreaker's optics. "You are dismissed."

"You can't do this to me!"

"You are _dismissed_," Prowl repeated.

"Is this your way of getting back at me?" Sunstreaker pressed on. "By splitting up me and Sides?"

"No, Sunstreaker, this is my way of trying to win a war, by sending one of my best warriors to refresh the front on Cybertron. Ultra Magnus and the Autobots on Cybertron have been fighting since the _Ark's_ departure, and our absence has cost the Autobots dearly. The moon outposts are our last foothold in the fight for our home," Prowl scowled. "Or did you really think it was all about you?"

Sunstreaker balked.

"Now...you are dismissed. Clean out your personal belongings and report to the shuttle area at 5 AM. Do you understand me, soldier?"

The yellow warrior turned from his gaze once more. "Yes...sir."

Prowl crossed his arms and waited. Sunstreaker hesitated, as if he was going to speak again, but then he slowly turned and left. Prowl clenched his fists, then sagged in on himself. That had not gone the way he wanted. Not at all.

.......................................

_"Prowl!"___

_"Yes, Jazz?" Prowl didn't look up from his datapad as he walked along, inspecting the building of the ship Prime had commissioned. "What can I do for you?"___

_"Well," Jazz fell into step beside him. "I was wonderin' if you were busy later this orn..."___

_"Undoubtedly so. Did you want me to go over some reports?"___

_"What? No, I wanted...I wanted to talk."___

_"Talk?" Prowl stopped walking and turned to Jazz. "About what?"___

_"About last cycle," Jazz frowned. He lowered his voice. "About us."___

_Prowl's lip components tightened. "Perhaps later, Jazz."___

_"Later? When later? Next cycle later...?"___

_"Just...later."___

_"Oh," Jazz shrugged. "Well...alright then. I suppose ya can find me when you wanna..."___

_"Thanks, Jazz," Prowl began walking away, his optics glued to the datapad once more.___

_"Sure," Jazz said softly to himself as he watched Prowl walk away. "No problem..."_


	11. Chapter 11

Cybertron hung darkly, framed by the window of the observation deck of the moon base. Distant brown crowds hovered over the surface, marks of the acid rainstorms working their way over the silent metal planet.

For eleven years, Sunstreaker had taken his shift at that observation deck, watching the place of his creation from afar. It was a tease, yet stood for a worthless nothing that Sunstreaker couldn't decide if he cared about anymore. The Cybertron before him was not the Cybertron of his youngling vorns. It was cold and empty, and under the control of Decepticons.

It had been a little over two Earth decades since they had come back online from the _Ark_ crash, but it was that time in stasis that had changed Cybertron, and not just for him. The Decepticons, even without Megatron, had taken over. Elita One and Ultra Magnus tried valiantly, but they were no match for Shockwave and his abilities to create waves and waves of drones. And even though the Decepticons had Cybertron, the Autobots knew that Megatron would chance it all for a chance to crush Prime once and for all.

And that's why they were at the moon bases.

Most of them had transferred here, but quite a few stayed to help Ultra Magnus and his soldiers integrate with Earth's cultures. Sideswipe was one of those bots kept on Earth.

Sunstreaker had not had time to say a proper goodbye to his brother when he had left, and he had still been angry. His pride had been wounded, and he knew, somehow, he had been wrong about something. About Prowl, about Sideswipe, something. Either way, he tried to convince himself every day that he didn't care anymore. It was easy to get lost in a hatred for Cybertron and all that had happened, and to blame a nameless planet for the mindless anger and hatred he felt and could find no source for.

The yellow twin flinched, holding up his rifle as a white shuttle passed. Skyfire. He commed command, asking for a confirmation that Skyfire was supposed to be there. The shuttle was dropping off supplies...and Prowl and Ratchet, reporting in to Prime from a diplomatic mission on Earth. Sunstreaker frowned to himself but lowered his rifle as he watched Skyfire land. He had not had to talk to Prowl since he had been transferred, and had only ever saw him from afar.

He liked that, but hated it at the same time.

He hated to admit it, but not being able to talk to his brother was wearing on him. Although Cybertron was right in front of him, his only tie to the life he once had before the war was on Earth.

Sideswipe was why he joined the Autobots. Sideswipe was the reason why he never left the Autobots. He was why Sunstreaker pretended to care. He supposed that as long as Sideswipe was there, the last visage of his life on Cybertron, that it was all worth it.

The lifeless planet leered back at him as if to say that not even Sideswipe could provide that assurance for him. Sideswipe wasn't there. And if he was, it was plain to see that that life, that home, was dead. And the dead do not come back to life.

Sunstreaker allowed his shift to pass, never tearing his gaze from the planet. It was only when he heard someone coming up the corridor to the observation deck that he looked away; it was Prowl, with a datastick in hand.

The yellow twin stood at attention, affixing his gaze to the wall opposite him. He supposed Prowl was just making rounds, although he had never done so before while he had been on shift. He expected Prowl to keep walking, but the SIC stopped at the observation deck. Sunstreaker's fingers tightened on his rifle.

"At ease...soldier."

Sunstreaker's jaw clenched, and he tried to make himself relax, but couldn't. Prowl didn't seem to notice and walked past him to the window where he stared out at Cybertron.

His wings drooped slightly, but otherwise said nothing. Sunstreaker tried to look past his presence, but he was still on duty, couldn't leave, and Prowl was hard to ignore. He resigned himself to watch Prowl as he watched Cybertron. Why was he just standing there? Sunstreaker's optics turned to the datastick in Prowl's hand. He surmised it carried messages, possibly one from Sideswipe.

He never read them, and never replied. It wasn't that he was snubbing his brother. Sideswipe knew he wasn't one for messages. He couldn't read between the lines. He couldn't _read_ them. It wasn't the same.

Sunstreaker was beginning to believe that Prowl would stand there for the remainder of his shift - just a few breems more - when the tactician spoke. "Sometimes, when I come here, I look at Cybertron and have this..._feeling_ that I will never set foot on it again."

Sunstreaker frowned, but didn't reward Prowl with a response. Maybe he couldn't leave his post, and maybe he couldn't tell Prowl off, but he sure as slag could withhold conversation.

"Spike once told me a story that I've been unable to forget. It was a religious story, about a man who freed his people from slavery, only to have them wander in the desert for forty years, unable to find their way to their new home. They were lost, without direction, and unable to rectify their situation no matter what they did." Prowl looked over at Sunstreaker. The yellow twin gave him no response. Prowl turned his optics to Cybertron once more. "Before our...argument, I did not put much merit to the story..."

"If you have a point, Prowl, get to it," Sunstreaker spat.

Prowl's wings drooped a bit more. "The point is, as more time passes, I feel that everything I have done up to this point has somehow been wrong. I've tried to be the best at what I am, trying so hard to be without a flaw, and to advise Prime in the best way against the Decepticons, and yet here I am now, on this moon, while the Decepticons are on Cybertron."

Sunstreaker huffed air from his vents. First Prowl shows up, then he decides to waste his time with some silly pointless chatter...his shift was up in a breem...

"For the first time in my existence, I am fully cognizant of my failures, and for the first time, I have no idea how to rectify them or how to pursue past them."

Prowl turned to Sunstreaker and offered up the datastick. "Sideswipe asked me to personally deliver this to you to ensure you are receiving his messages. He knows you don't read them, but would prefer some sort of response."

"Tell him I'm fine," Sunstreaker said simply. He didn't accept the datastick.

Prowl gave a nod and let his arm fall to his side. "I know you don't want to hear it, Sunstreaker, but I do want to apologize. I know your shift is up but please hear me out. I leave again tomorrow and...I can't go another cycle without saying something."

Sunstreaker cycled air. He didn't want to hear it. It was easier to just...hate Prowl. He wanted to turn and leave. He was not done punishing Prowl emotionally. He wanted someone to suffer for the anger he felt forced to feel.

When Sunstreaker didn't move, Prowl placed his hands on the sill of the window and stared at Cybertron. "You scared me, Sunstreaker, and continue to do so. I don't understand it. But if there was something I did to come between at least a friendship - something that I should not let rank deny me - then I am sorry."

Sunstreaker lowered his rifle. Prowl didn't say anything else, so he figured the SIC was done. "Whatever. Tell Sideswipe I said hello. I'm sure you'll have plenty of chances when you get back."

"You still believe that I would prefer Sideswipe over you."

"Everyone prefers Sideswipe over me. You didn't deny it, Prowl."

"Sunstreaker..." Prowl gripped the windowsill, becoming frustrated. He figured he should just come out with it, with the nagging realization he'd had since his battle computer had been repaired. "You scare me because I want you. Not some sort of silly infatuation or curiosity. And...because I've been in this situation before. I can't repair the damage I had done with them, and I don't particularly care to. But I do not want to continue this way with you." He paused. "But I understand if my apology comes too late." Prowl silenced his vocoder, cursing himself inwardly for talking. It was hard to admit what he felt, and if he knew Sunstreaker's volatile nature, he'd probably be angry because he had been right. Although he wasn't expecting forgiveness, he silently hoped for it. He shook his head. "That was silly."

"You picked a slagging good place to be mushy," Sunstreaker said. He had tried to sound biting, but it came out resigned. Prowl looked up; Sunstreaker motioned with the rifle to a blinking indicator light for a security camera pointed into the observation deck. He couldn't think of anything to say. No one had ever apologized to him for anything before. Quite a few people had expressed wanting him. He did consider himself the most beautiful mech on the Autobot forces. But he knew that Prowl didn't give a slag about shiny finishes. He cycled air. "Look...Prowl...I think..." he paused. He did forgive Prowl. He felt bad for even blaming Prowl for Sideswipe in the first place. But...if he was serious with himself...

"I don't think...we'll work."

Prowl's door wings flinched as he turned from the window. "Don't, please..."

"It won't."

"I don't _care_."

Sunstreaker shook his head.

Prowl watched Sunstreaker turn down the corridor, leaving him alone on the observation deck.


	12. Chapter 12

The next cycle, Sunstreaker watched as Ratchet, Prowl, Ironhide, and a few others loaded into the non-sentient shuttle. Although he regretted how he had parted ways with Prowl the night before, he knew that it was the best thing to do. Prowl was too...good for someone like him. Sunstreaker knew that whatever Prowl wanted, Sunstreaker would be unable to give. His spark was as cold as Cybertron itself.

As the time passed, he knew that he cared less and less about everything about him.

Skyfire stood beside him, watching the shuttle take off as well. He had expressed wanting to stay on the moon bases, although he didn't give a clear reason why. Sunstreaker knew of the rumors about him and Starscream being friends or an item before the war, but it was none of his business and he didn't care.

"Did Prowl talk with you?" Skyfire said suddenly.

Sunstreaker looked up at the shuttle. "What?"

"He had told me he had something important to say," Skyfire said simply. "Prowl doesn't usually talk about things that effect him." He looked down at Sunstreaker. "I...didn't mean to pry."

Sunstreaker looked at the shuttle that was disappearing in the distance. "It'll be fine."

"I hope so," Skyfire replied. "In these times, it is so hard to know what to do. You only hope that the decisions you make are for the best. But that is all you have. Blind hope."

"Or you have nothing at all," Sunstreaker murmured. "Sometimes, that's easier than hope. Hope can't help you when what you have is taken away."

Skyfire looked down at Sunstreaker, but the yellow twin was already walking away. He bit his lip and looked back towards the starry sky in the direction of Earth.

THE END


End file.
